Drowning to Breathe (21 page)

I stated it like the question it was.
What the fuck is going on? Do you know?

God, what I wouldn’t give to know why Jennings had been coming off our bus that night. But Austin had sworn he had no clue, that he’d texted for the pills and it was Jennings who’d shown up rather than one of the scumbags the asshole normally had doing his bidding. Woke up the next day in the hospital.

Every inch of him stiffened, and he dropped his attention to the shadows playing from the tree branches against the roof before he finally looked at me. “You’re done, right? You signed the plea?”

“Yeah. It’s done.”

He nodded harshly. “Good. Just stay away from him, Baz. Take Shea and Kallie and get as far away as you can. Put all of that behind you.”

Resentment seeped from my pores. “Don’t think that’s going to be possible.”

We all knew we hadn’t seen the last of Jennings.

Austin pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. Rocking. Scared. Words a plea. “If I could take it all back, you know I would, right, Baz?”

“Take what back?”

“All of it…all the way back to the day I ruined both our lives. Every mistake I’ve made since. I fucked everything up. Fucked it up bad.”

I gripped his neck again, trying to get him to look at me. “You didn’t ruin our lives, Austin.”

“Stop making excuses for me. I took Julian’s and I’ve done nothing but ruin lives since.”

God, when was this kid gonna see it wasn’t him? That it was
me
. I’d been the one responsible. The one who was supposed to be watching them instead of fucking around with some girl.

My fault.

But he still couldn’t see it.

My phone started ringing in my pocket again. My heart rate ramped up with the thought of it being Shea, before it went hard when our father’s number again marred the screen.

Damn it.

Austin caught it before I could hide it.

Hurt blazed from his skin as self-deprecating laughter trembled out. “See what I mean? I’m still ruining everything. What’s he want? More money? To keep holding something you didn’t do over your head?”

Shaking his head, he frantically stubbed out the joint and scrambled to stand. “Fuck him and fuck this. I’m going to bed.”

Jaw clenched, I killed the call, listened to the cackle of laughter floating up from below, the retreating of Austin’s footsteps.

That whole feeling I was being torn in two?

I got the sick feeling my world was about to come apart.

Finally I tore myself from my spot and back into the house. I didn’t even consider joining the party. I headed upstairs toward my room.

Lyrik was just starting down as I approached the top of the landing. He cocked me a smirk. “Hiding now, are we?”

“How’d you know?” I tossed him a guilty grin.

He laughed, rubbed tattooed fingers over his chin. “Because I
know
you. Known you most of my damned life. Whatever you wanted? You were all in. Fighting for it with all you have.” He tilted his head toward the stairs. “And I know you don’t want that anymore. Not all that hard to figure out.”

Unease shifted my feet, and I glanced away before I gained the courage to look back at him.

“Don’t sweat it, man,” he said. “Maybe you didn’t know it, but you were always looking for something. You found it in Shea.”

I stared at one of my oldest friends. Knowing he got me. That just like the rest of the guys, they’d take up my side, no matter what it was I asked of them.

Just like I had to do for them.

He lifted his chin in parting and bounded downstairs.

Feeling emotionally exhausted, I hauled myself to the end of the hall and entered through the double doors set across from Austin’s room. They led into the master suite. Inside, the room was dark and void. More so with the party playing on from below.

Thank God it was Monday and Shea was off. I fell into the center of my bed, pulling my phone from my jeans pocket. I dialed my girl.

It took her a couple of rings to answer.

“Sebastian.”

Relief hit me hard when I heard that sweet, seductive voice come across the line. My spirit did some crazy thing, something physical, a whole-body tremble that started from within.

“Shea, baby, miss you so bad.”

A soft giggle rolled from her. “I think these have been the longest five days of my life.” Her voice quieted. “And we’re just getting started.”

She was right. The coming four weeks would be excruciating.

“It’ll go by fast,” I promised.

“Says the guy who’s going to be out on the road in front of his fans night after night with endless parties to keep him entertained, while he leaves his girlfriend bored out of her mind and alone all the way across the country.”

It was a sulk filled with pure tease. I could picture those full lips pulling into a sultry pout, and I tried to stop my thoughts from rushing south, right along with my blood.

Laughing lightly, I rolled onto my side. “Hardly. After being on that bus for a few days, I’ll probably be hitchhiking my way back to you. I’ll be riding shotgun in some big rig, giving him a sob story about my girl I left behind and how I have to make it back to her.”

“Mmm…I like the sound of that. Just watch out for the creepers.”

A warm chuckle flowed from my lips. “Nothin’ to worry about, baby. Don’t you think I look like I can take care of myself?”

She giggled. “Oh, I’m sure you can. I have seen you in action before. Unless someone has a death wish, no one is going to stand in your way.”

I could almost see the roll of her eyes, before an edge of seriousness wove into her tone. “So…how did everything go today? You’re finished?”

“I’m done.” Tried to keep it out, but I knew she didn’t miss the shot of anger that found its way into my answer.

She wavered, before she whispered, “Was Martin there?”

I pushed out a strained sigh. “Yeah. He was there.”

“And...?” she prodded when I didn’t divulge more details.

I roughed a hand down my face, not wanting to get into it, wishing I could erase the conversation from my head. Really, I wished I could erase the conversation from my reality. “And he’s still an asshole. Followed me out to my car, started talking all kinds of bullshit about you and my family. Basically he said he’s just gettin’ started.”

From across the distance, I could almost see the expression on my girl’s face. The worry and fear she felt every time Jennings was mentioned. The way she wished she could erase it, too.

“I’m sorry, baby,” I murmured.

“No, don’t say that. You don’t have anything to be sorry about. This…we’re doing this together, whatever may come. Until then, we can’t give him any part of us. Any of our time or our thoughts or our energy. I refuse to
give
him any more.”

God, she was a fucking miracle. A positive light shining bright, bright, bright.

I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling. What Jennings had said about her mom was nagging at my consciousness, every part of me needing to know more. I got the phone as close to my ear as I could, wishing there was a way it could get me closer. My voice went tender, because fuck, this girl eclipsed all my hard.

“Tell me a story, Shea from Savannah.”

HER BLACK PATENT DRESS
shoes clicked on the wooden stage floor that was nearly as black as her shoes, except for the scuffed-up spots where Shea could only imagine instrument boxes had been dragged or where shoes had danced.

She knew she should have been looking up instead of studying that floor, but today the butterflies she normally got felt more like bees. Nerves droned in her ears and swarmed in her belly.

She just wanted to make her momma proud.

Coming to a stop at the front of the stage where a piece of tape made a line at the microphone, Shea forced herself to finally look up.

She could do this. She’d had enough lessons and enough auditions to know what was expected of her.

A spotlight blinded her from above. She squinted and tried to make out the few faces in the front row of the almost-empty music theater. It was impossible, but she knew they were there.

At the ready to critique, judge, and assess.

She was used to it by now.

Well.

Almost.

She wasn’t so sure she’d ever get used to some of the mean things people would say.

The rejection.

But it was the disappointment on her momma’s face that always bothered her most.

And this one was important.

During the entire car ride from Savannah to Memphis they’d made just for this audition, her momma had drilled it into her.
It’s big, baby. You land this and we’re set. You have to be at your best and nothing less.

Her momma had purchased a brand new dress for this audition, the lacy material tight at her neck and wrists. It landed below her knees.

Her momma said it was modest and pretty. Just what they were looking for.

Shea scratched at the itchy material when those bees buzzed, and she shifted on her feet, feeling she might be sick while she waited for instruction.

A deep voice rolled through the milky fog. “Can you tell us your name, please?”

“Shea Bentley,” she drawled quietly into the microphone, having to hike up onto her tippy-toes to reach.

“Okay, Shea Bentley, you can begin.”

From where she sat at the piano, Shea’s momma looked at her from over her shoulder and played a single chord. A cue that went along with her stern look.

Focus.

And Shea did.

Just as her momma dove into the music, Shea dove deep and found that place inside where she
felt
it. Where she
felt
it right in the center of her heart.

Just like her grandma had told her to do.

Even though she sometimes didn’t feel quite right—and so many times felt like crying instead of smiling because she always seemed to mess everything up—standing there, singing this song?

Shea felt right.

She gave it everything she had. She allowed herself to rise above this place and imagined she was standing beside her grandma in church. Her grandma was holding her hand, squeezing it in quiet encouragement.

And Shea sang. Opened up her lungs the same as she opened her mouth.

It felt beautiful and important.

Significant.

The piano blinked out at the end of the song. Shea carried the tune on her voice, not needing the accompaniment to hit the highest note.

When she finished, Shea had to reorient herself, having forgotten where she was. Awkwardness filled her as she stared unseeing at the hidden faces in the front as the light continued to blare down on her.

“That was beautiful. Simply beautiful,” the same man’s voice said from behind the shimmering fog.

Her momma was suddenly at her side, pushing her forward, offering her like a prize.

But his voice changed when he said the next, “Unfortunately, we’re looking for someone who is just a little older. A little more mature. I have no doubt this young lady has a bright future ahead of her.”

At her side, Shea’s momma went rigid, and Shea got that sour feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“Thank you for your time,” her momma said gruffly, before she was hauling Shea by the arm off the side of the stage. She shoved Shea’s things into a bag, and Shea struggled to keep up when she again grabbed her by the arm. Her momma flung open the side door. Shea blinked off the blinding light and tried to adjust herself, this time because the afternoon sun blazed from above.

It seemed as if Shea could never keep up.

The hand on her forearm squeezed, the words grated as her momma stormed through the parking lot. “Can’t you do anything right? You manage to fuck up everything, don’t you? Every single time. Just like your deadbeat dad. Worthless. Do you know how much I’ve invested in you, Shea? The money? The time?”

Shea flinched when she felt the sting of nails digging into her skin. Tears pricked at her eyes, and she struggled to hold them back.

“I tried, Momma.” The quieted words wobbled from her aching throat.

Her momma flung the bag into the backseat of her old car while Shea eased into the front seat and buckled up, wishing she had someplace to hide.